


Rush

by hollybennett123



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-08
Updated: 2010-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-01 19:45:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybennett123/pseuds/hollybennett123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt <a href="http://sherlockkink.livejournal.com/439.html?thread=1167799#t1167799">"My first born for some desperate H/W fumbly sex that leads to PREMATURE EJACULATION. Doesn't matter who. Just. Want."</a> over in the sherlockkink community at Livejournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rush

**Author's Note:**

> First posted January 2010, posted here March 2012 and backdated.

Frustratingly, their work frequently keeps them occupied for days on end, leaving their desire to simmer below the surface until it can no longer be contained and they are desperate with this _need_ that spills over like water and seeps into their very beings in a way that can’t be ignored any longer.

They stumble through the dull light of the bedroom, bodies and lips pressed together, until they slam into the nearest wall so hard it almost knocks the breath out of them. Holmes realises faintly, through the haze of lust that clouds his thoughts, that his back will be bruised by tomorrow; not that he minds, of course. The marks upon their bodies serve as reminders of their encounters once the afterglow dims and they are dragged back to reality; he would be lying if he said he’d never raked his nails over barely healed scratches, pressed the pad of his thumb hard against purpling bruises when he thinks no one is looking, in an attempt to make them stay longer. The good Doctor has seen this and most fervently disapproves of such idiocy, but can’t find it in himself to do more than shake his head and barely hide a smile.

Their shaking fingers are at each other’s shirts, frantically fumbling with buttons in an attempt to get to the heated flesh beneath. Watson has Holmes’s shirt open first, and he quickly pulls the fabric aside to press his palm against the flushed, burning skin of his chest, sliding his tongue between the seam of Holmes’s lips as blunt fingernails press into his shoulder. Watson lets his hand glide downwards, across the taut stomach, slipping sideways to skim over Holmes’s waist and the jut of his hipbone. His trousers are still fastened, but there is enough space for Watson to let his fingers continue their journey down, sliding under the waistband tantalisingly slowly. He is unsurprised at the low groan that escapes Holmes’s lips, and he anticipates the slight buck of his hips against his hand. What he isn’t expecting is for the gentle brush of his knuckle against Holmes’s erection to cause the man to shudder and promptly come, spilling himself over Watson’s hand and his own trousers and stomach.

Holmes closes his eyes for a moment, his breathing harsh, and Watson lets out a shaky breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. He draws his hand upwards again, smearing the thick white liquid and watching it glisten against the defined abdominal muscles; Holmes opens his eyes and watches before glancing up again and catching Watson’s gaze, smirking and looking completely exhilarated, eyes dancing mischievously.

“F-forgive me, my dear Watson, for ending things before they had time to develop further; you should probably take it as a compliment. Not to worry… this works out quite well for you, really, would you not say?” With that said, and looking decidedly smug, he allows his back to slide down the wall until his knees hit the floor with a dull thud. Never once breaking eye contact he yanks the buttons of Watson’s trousers so forcefully they scatter over the floor, and fills his mouth with his cock so fast Watson sees stars beneath his eyelids. Holmes grins as best he can and swipes his tongue in a smooth curve beneath the underside, pulling back as Watson moans, gasps and digs his fingernails into the wall, head bowed and eyes closed.

Holmes wonders, with a small thrill, just how quickly he can make Watson come.

1 minute and 17 seconds later, he has his answer.  



End file.
